Full Circle
by Zaidie
Summary: When Sam fails to show up for work one morning everyone wonders will they be able to solve the case in time to save one of their own? Pairing Martin/Sam. Please R&R. Now completed.
1. No Show

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, any of the characters, story-lines, or actors. However I do own my ideas.

Zai: Hey, This is my first Without a Trace fic. I'm relatively new to the show, but I hope you like it. I really appreciate reviews. Any feedback would be loved.

* * *

Special agent Samantha Spade sat on the edge of the bed, and fastened the final button at the top of her blouse, before turning to watch her companion. He was crouched at the side of his bed, half dressed, peering into the darkness under the frame. When he noticed Sam's gaze, he looked up at her with a goofy grin and produced the sock he had been searching for. Sam made a face, "Martin! That's disgusting."

"You sure you want to leave?" he asked, ignoring the comment on his personal hygiene. Sam only nodded and headed into the front room. Martin Fitzgerald grabbed a wrinkled shirt that had been careless tossed across a chair before following her. Sam gathered her belongings while Martin pulled the shirt over his bare chest. "I'll walk you down."

Martin held his apartment door open and then followed Sam into the deserted hall. Sam glanced at her watch. The small black hands indicated it was nearly half past twelve. Mentally she scolded herself, knowing she should have headed home nearly an hour ago. After all, they both had to work the next morning.

They took the stairs, walking hand-in-hand they descended to the ground floor in a comfortable silence. The lobby was, as expected, empty due to the lateness of the hour. Letting the stairwell door fall shut behind, Sam turned to her companion and tilting her head toward him, she brought her lips to meet his. Martin gently leaned toward her, his warm lips connecting to her soft delicate ones, deepening the kiss. He gently slipped his large hands around her waist and she broke the kiss murmuring, "I had a great time tonight."

Martin nodded and started to reply but she removed herself from his embrace and did not wait for his response. She turned, covering the short distance between him and the door leading into the parkade, then she glanced back, flashing him a sweet smile. The heavy metal door fell shut behind her, blocking the sight of the lobby and Martin.

After the echo from the door faded, the parkade was dark and silent. Sam's steps resounded eerily in the enclosed lot, as she headed toward her car parked in one of the designated guest parking stalls. As she neared her vehicle Sam reached into her jacket pocket to retrieve her car keys . . .

0-0-0-0

_7 hours missing_

Special agent Danny Taylor looked up from his desk to see a slightly dishevelled, unshaved, man appear in the doorway holding a steaming mug of coffee possessively. "Late night?" Danny asked with a grin.

Martin only glared at his co-worker in response as he plopped down in the chair in front of his own desk. With noticeable reluctance he placed his coffee down and tried to force his tired mind to concentrate on the papers that were spread, in no particular order, across his desk. Glancing up, he noticed Sam's desk was untouched. "Sam come in yet?"

Danny shrugged, "Haven't seen her."

Martin nodded and tried to push down the strange feeling that was beginning to make his empty stomach feel oddly unsettled. He wondered where Sam could be. Soon he found his mind wandering away from his work and trailing back to the previous night. Just the memory of her soft, smooth skin against his made it impossible to focus.

"Good morning," Agent Vivian Johnson said, repeating herself. Martin blinked up at her blankly as though she were speaking a foreign language. "You okay Martin?"

"Huh? Yeah, yeah, I'm fine..." Martin stammered fighting back a yawn while trying to look like he had been doing something productive. Vivian just shot him a quizzical look before heading over to her own desk. Martin ran his fingers through his hair and stared intently at the papers before him. He had to get caught up on this paper work sometime. But no matter how hard Martin tried to suppress the worry gnawing at him he just could not get on with his work. Finally he picked up his desk phone and swiftly dialled. Each ring was followed by dead silence on the other end until Martin heard a click followed by a familiar voice.

"Hi, this is Sam, I'm not in right now so after the tone leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

After waiting for the tone Martin reluctantly complied with the message's request, asking Sam to call him if she got in. After replacing the receiver he waited a moment before dialling her cell. The result of his second phone call was even less helpful, as her cell appeared to be turned off.

Martin fidgeted, unsure of what to think. They all kept their phones handy in-case a case came in when they weren't at the office. Besides, she should have been into work by now. He pushed his chair back and stood up. Danny looked up questioningly, but Martin ignored him and headed off down the hall toward his the office of his boss, Jack Malone. He paused outside with his hand on the door handle, unsure of what he planned to say, but Jack motion for him to come in, and so he did.

Martin said nothing for a moment, not sure exactly what he was doing, Sam was fully capable of looking after herself. Jack had looked up from the files on his desk and was watching Martin expectantly. Martin cleared his throat and muttered, "Sam hasn't come in yet, and well, she isn't answering her cell. So, I was wondering if I could, uh, swing by her house, just to make sure everything's all right."

Jack watched Martin shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It was rather late, and Sam was a good agent, always on time, always called in if she wasn't coming. He had begun to wonder about her absence himself. Jack nodded slowly, "Make it quick."

Martin agreed and returned to his desk where he grabbed his jacket off his chair back. He tried to convince himself he was being paranoid - that everything would be fine. Despite his attempts to reassure himself, he was barely able to contain his urge to run down to his car and gun it to her house. Danny watched him go curiously, convinced, now more than ever, that Sam and Martin were involved.

0-0-0-0

_8 hours missing_

Martin parked his car on the curbside in front of Sam's house. Her car was nowhere to be seen and Martin headed up the drive anxiously. He banged loudly on the door. No response. He peered into her unlit house but could not make out much detail. Glancing around he noticed a car in the driveway of the house directly across from Sam's. _Worth a shot_.

After receiving no answer Martin headed back down the steps when the door opened behind him. "Can I help you?" A man asked from where he stood in the doorway, looking half asleep and wearing a bathrobe.

"I'm sorry to have woken you," Martin apologized, "I'm special agent Martin Fitzgerald, F.B.I." He added producing his badge.

"F.B.I.? How can I help you?"

"Your neighbour," Martin said gesturing to Sam's house, "she never showed at work this morning, I was just wondering if you had noticed when you last saw her."

"She's missing?" The man queried. "Well, I work nights, and her car wasn't home when I got home around three. I noticed 'cause she never stays out the whole night."

"She never came home last night?" The dread and unease Martin felt was noticeable in his voice and the neighbour looked at him curiously.

"Nah. Unless it was after three a.m. Sorry I can't be of more help."

"Thank you anyway," Martin said and hurriedly took his leave, pulling his cell out as he reached his car. He paused a moment before dialling.

"Taylor," The response came as the call connected.

"Danny, it's Martin. Sam never made it home last night, I have something I have to check out. I'll call you back in twenty, 'kay?

"Uh, sure," Danny muttered as the phone disconnected from Martin's end.

Martin pulled into the parkade nearly a half hour later, morning traffic in New York - something Martin did not want to deal with. He caught sight of the vehicle immediately and the knot in his stomach grew. Sam's car parked, where it had obviously been all night. Numbly Martin dialled his cell.

"Taylor."

"I found her car..." Martin's voice sounded faint on the other end of the call. "It's at my apartment." With that the call disconnected and Danny Taylor was left starring at his silent phone.

"Who was it?"

"Martin, he found Sam's car."

"That's great," Vivian said getting up, "Where is it?"

"His apartment," Danny said with a shrug as Jack entered the bullpen from his office catching only the last of the conversation.

"Martin found Sam's car at his apartment," Vivian said filling Jack in, "Should we head down there to help him out?"

Jack nodded slowly, "Check the car then canvas the building, if her car is there it's likely that's where she was last seen." Vivian grabbed her jacket even before Jack finished talking, she and Danny headed past him into the hall, "And Viv?" Jack said pausing as she turned to face him, "send Martin back."

Vivian looked like she was about to say something but only nodded instead and followed Danny down the hall to the elevator.


	2. Missed Chances

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, any of the characters, story-lines, or actors. However I do own my ideas.

Zai: Thanks for the reviews! I hope you enjoy the next chapter. And Jeannedomingo: Yeah, they were still hiding their relationship.

* * *

_10 hours missing_

Martin shifted on the office chair. Across from him, on the other side of the large conference-style table, sat his boss Jack Malone. Jack tapped his pen absently against his notebook before asking his next question, "So, she stayed till twelve, why not the whole night?"

Martin shrugged, "I offered, she didn't want to, I guess."

"And she seemed fine?"

"Yeah, she didn't mention anything bothering her." Martin leaned forward in his chair and rested his forehead in his hand. "Dammit!" Martin swore sharply. "If I'd just walked her to her car..."

"It's not your fault-" Jack began but stopped when he realized how hollow those words must sound from Martin's position. They'd all told the victim's families the exact same things, time and time before. Jack slowly rose to his feet and looked at Martin intently. Though Martin hadn't explicitly explained his and Sam's new relationship, Jack understood. "Martin," he sighed wearily, "go home."

"You can't take me off her case Jack! I need to help. We can't be short two people. Jack, please don't do this."

Jack considered for a long moment, then gestured toward Martin's desk. "Go through all the recent case files, find me a suspect." Martin nodded numbly and headed off to retrieve all the old case files. Jack pulled out his cell.

0-0-0-0

Vivian stepped back from the door of the last apartment on the floor, as the suite's occupant closed the door behind her. Danny headed over from across the hall. "You get much?"

"A couple people recognize her, but no one who recalls seeing her last night," Vivian said with a sigh.

"I got a guy," Danny said scanning his notes, "in 407, says he saw Sam in the lobby at about six, yesterday."

Vivian's response was cut off by a ringing from her waist. She held the phone to her ear, "Johnson."

"Viv," Jack's voice came over the phone, "Did you get anything from the canvas?"

"Not much, A lot of people not home. We got several who remember her, but only one guy who saw her last night. Around six-ish. No one saw her leave."

"Martin said she didn't leave until after twelve. Are you done at the apartment?"

"Yeah, we're done here."

"Okay, send Danny back. We'll need help sorting through old case files. You check out Sam's house. See if you can find anything out of the ordinary." Jack paused, "One last thing, Martin said he walked her to the lobby, so she must have gone missing from the car-park."

Vivian was silent for a moment. The distance between the lobby exit, and Sam's car hadn't been very large. It seemed as if someone had to have been waiting for her. "All right, I'll check back in a bit," Vivian finally said before disconnecting the call and turning to Danny. "Jack wants you to head back. He and Martin are looking for a suspect from our case files." Danny nodded and Vivian turned to head back to the ground floor.

"Viv?" Danny said slowly, "Do you think Martin can work this one... I'm mean, with he and Sam being involved."

Vivian shook her head, "That's Jack's call."

0-0-0-0

Case files were spread across the entire conference table. Martin and Jack sat on opposite sides of the table, tackling their own piles. Danny stopped in the doorway. Martin sifted through the sheets in a file aimlessly. Jack looked up having heard Danny's approach. He rose to his feet and came to stand next to Danny.

Martin didn't even notice Jack leaving the table. He knew how important it was they go through these files, it was possible someone from a former case had grabbed Sam. Eleven hours, she had been missing nearly eleven hours. _An eleven hour-eternity._

Eleven hours ago and her light hair had been spread across his pillow. Her warm, firm skin bared beneath him, showing every curve of her well-defined body. Last night she had been so close, right there in his arms. The same as countless other nights at one-another's place. And despite all of them, he had never found the time or the words to tell her how much she had come to mean to him. A thought occurred, and was just as immediately banished from his mind; _and now you might never get that chance._

Across the room Jack and Danny watched Martin closely, "Jack he shouldn't be here. His mind is elsewhere. He could miss something."

Jack shook his head, he agreed with Danny but he had made his decision - it was better to keep Martin here where he could keep an eye on the distressed agent. "His mind is on nothing but the case," Jack said curtly and returned to the case file he had been scanning. He pushed a few toward the chair Danny had claimed next to Martin.

0-0-0-0

Vivian surveyed the living room for a second time. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She had now been through the entirety of Sam's house and was back where she had started. Even the computer had yielded nothing warranting further investigation. Vivian sighed and let herself back out.

Before returning to the office Vivian headed over to the nearby houses. It was possible someone had noticed something unusual even though this was not the site of Sam's disappearance. She did not find anyone home until she reached the house directly across from Sam's house. A man answered the door.

"Hello. I'm special agent Vivian Johnson with the FBI. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions." Vivian asked politely.

"Uh? I've already spoken to your colleague," came the man's tired reply, "told him I hadn't seen the lady's car last night."

"My colleague?"

"Yeah, er, Fitzgerald. Or something."

Martin. He must have come talked to the guy earlier. "Well, I was just wondering if you'd noticed anything unusual around lately."

"Hmm. Sorry, I work nights and sleep days. You might try asking Mrs. Breckhem." The man said gesturing to the house to the right of Sam's. "She's usually home. She might be out back in her garden."

Vivian thanked the man and headed back to see if this Mrs. Breckhem was around. There had been no reply at the door so Vivian headed around the side of the house. And sure enough, an elderly woman was kneeling in her back garden. "Excuse me," Vivian called from the gate.

"Oh, hello dear," the silver-haired woman exclaimed coming over to the fence. "I mustn't have heard you knock."

"Oh that's all right, My name is Vivian Johnson, I'm with the FBI. I was wondering if perhaps I could ask you a few questions."

"Well of course dear. Please come have a seat," she said opening the gate and gesturing to a white patio table with matching chairs. "Can I get you something?"

"No, that's all right. I don't want to take up much of your time." Vivian said as they each took a seat in the whitewash clean chairs. "I was just hoping I could ask you a few questions about your neighbour. She's missing."

"Oh my!" The elderly woman exclaimed. "How awful! Samantha's such a nice girl."

"Do you know her well?"

Mrs. Beckhem shook her head, "No, but she always offers to help when I'm bringing in the groceries and whatnot."

"Have you noticed anything strange lately? Anyone hanging around, that sort of thing."

"Well now that you mention it," Mrs. Breckhem said after a short pause, "There was this car, never seen it around before. Would pull up across the street and just sit there. An ugly sort of dark red station-wagon. Only saw it twice though."

"Recently?" Vivian asked.

"Yes, first time was, oh about a week ago and the second must have been Friday."

"Did you notice the licence plate, or what the driver looked like?"

Again Mrs. Breckhem shook her head. "No, it was rather dark then. Curious though..." she trailed off.

"What's curious?" Vivian prompted.

"Both times the car showed up was when Samantha was entertaining that gentleman friend of hers. Pulled up only a moment or so after he arrived."

"Gentleman friend?" Vivian asked, although after speaking with Martin's neighbours she was quite sure she knew who that was.

"Yeah, a nice looking lad. He's been coming round awhile now. I don't know his name though." Mrs. Breckhem replied.

"Oh, that's all right, you've been a great help." Vivian said rising to her feet and handing Mrs. Breckhem a card with her office number on it, "Just in case you remember anything more about that station-wagon."

"Glad I could be of help. I do hope you find her."

Vivian headed back around the front of the house and pulled out her cell to give Jack an update.


	3. Losing Grip

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, any of the characters, storylines, or actors. However I do own my ideas.

Zai: I appreciate the reviews. I hope you guys read and enjoy the update.

* * *

_12 hours missing_

Vivian stared at the time line, keeping her focus off the file photo of Sam and the case number beside her name. It seemed rather sparse compared to what they usually had. There were only three lines extended from the main one. The first read: 10 days BD - Mystery car's first visit. Followed by: 3 days BD - Mystery car's second visit. The final line reading: 12:30 DOD - Leaves Martin's apartment. Not much to go on.

A second white board stood nearby. It was completely empty, save for the word 'suspects' written in bold along the top. Danny replaced his receiver on the hook and removing a photo from a case file headed over to the empty bored. "I've got a possible."

His simple announcement caught the attention of everyone in the bullpen. They all watched closely as Danny added the picture and a name to the white bored.

"His name is Anthony Richards. He was arrested in a case we had a while ago. He had a personal motivation against Sam though. She was the one who convinced a witness to testify against him. Richards was released about two weeks ago on parole, and I just got off the phone with his parole officer, who informs me he missed a check in Friday. He has no idea where Richards might be."

"Of course he doesn't," Martin grumbled.

"Do we have any idea where to find him?" Vivian asked.

"No listed address, but we got the address of a sister here in the city, I was going to call her next see if she knows anything."

"Right, make the call," Jack said returning to the cases before him.

0-0-0-0

"Okay, I think I've got an address," Danny said after countless phone calls. Not only had it taken him awhile to track down the sister, but once he had her, she didn't exactly know where Richards was. It was only after phoning several places he used to go had the got a possible current address.

"Take Martin with you and bring him in," Jack said absently, still checking out possible leads in the files.

Danny paused a moment, but remembering Jack's earlier words decided not to voice his concerns. He knew Martin was a good agent; he was just worried Martin's control might be affected by the possibility that this guy had hurt Sam. Danny shrugged he would just have to keep an eye on his friend.

Together the two agents left the building and with Danny driving they headed to the address in silence. Danny, not sure what to say, and Martin's mind was elsewhere.

Martin tried to remember the case, but it had been a long time ago. He remembered Sam had gotten rather upset about it. The guy would have walked too; if she hadn't managed to convince some poor girl to take the stand.

They pulled up in front of an unkempt, low-rent apartment complex and Danny brought the car to a halt at the side of the road. "Nice neighbourhood," he commented darkly.

Martin grunted a reply as he got out the passenger side door, double checking the lock. Not surprisingly the front door of the building was unlocked. Off to one side was the building's only stairwell. Danny and Martin began their ascent of the grimy stairs, relieved that the address was only one floor up and not five, as the stairs made ominous creaking noises the entire way up.

Martin slammed his fist loudly on the door. "FBI open up!" He called. No response. Both he and Danny drew their guns. Then Martin kicked the door and it swung back. He saw a flash of movement as the apartment's occupant disappeared through a door at far side of the room. Martin took off after him.

The man was halfway out the bedroom window leading onto the fire escape when Martin caught up with him. He hauled the man back into the room pinning him against the floor.

Danny came and stood in the doorway. "Rest of the place is clear."

After snapping cuffs on Richards, Martin hauled him to his feet, ignoring the curses and protests thrown his way. Danny lead the way out of the apartment, Martin followed behind keeping a firm grip on Richards.

0-0-0-0

_13 hours missing_

Martin paced the small interview room. Danny was seated across from Richards who leaned back smugly in his chair on the far side of the table. "I haven't seen Spade since the trial, you guys are barking up the wrong tree."

"You sure about that?" Martin growled. This guy was really rubbing him the wrong way. He had no alibi to offer, no excuse of why he missed checking in with his parole officer. Nothing. Yet he sat there looking like he owned the world. Martin tried to control his breathing. He needed to keep calm.

"Yeah."

"Well we think maybe you did," Danny replied from where he sat, trying to gauging Richards' responses.

"Well like I said before, you guys got nothing. I haven't seen her since the trial and frankly I don't want to."

"Must have made you pretty upset, her convincing that girl to testify," Danny said coldly.

Richards shrugged. Martin couldn't take it. If this guy had hurt Samantha and they were sitting here playing games with the guy...

Anger flowed through Martin. Before he knew what he was doing, Martin had hauled a shocked Richards out of his seat and slammed him into the wall knocking over his chair in the process. "Where the hell is she."

Danny was on his feet a split second later. It took some effort but he managed to forcibly remove his partner from the interview room. Slamming the door behind him Danny glared at Martin and took a second to regain his composure before snapping, "What the hell was that?"

"Sorry," Martin mumbled more to himself then Danny.

Danny sighed. He could not even try to understand how Martin must be feeling. Danny wanted to find Sam too but he knew, now for certain, just how deep Martin's feelings for her had become. He was probably blaming himself, especially since Sam had gone missing from his apartment. However, that still did not excuse knocking a suspect around. They could not ruin their chance at finding her. "I'll finish this up myself," Danny said before turning his back to Martin and re-entering the small room.

Martin stood blankly in the hall for a moment. He could barely believe he'd just done that. He had never let his emotions take over him before. Sure he got upset over cases, but nothing like this... but then, the case had never meant so much to him. _If they could not find her..._ Martin suppressed the thought. They would find her. They had to. Slowly he headed off to the bullpen.

0-0-0-0

Danny stood in the doorway of Jack's office. He had just finished questioning Richards and while he had not gotten anything useful from the guy, he still needed to talk to his boss about what had happened.

Jack looked up as Danny entered. "What did Richards say?"

"Not much, claims he hasn't seen Sam since his trial and he doesn't own a station wagon."

Jack nodded. They had all hoped this would prove a useful lead since it had been over half a day and they seemed no closer to finding her. "Alright, I suppose we can't hold him?" Danny shook his head and Jack glanced back down at the files on his desk. "We'll just have to keep looking."

"Jack," Danny started slowly, "I know what you said about Martin earlier, but he lost it in there. He shouldn't be here."

"Lost it?"

Danny sombrely explained how Martin had snapped and how he'd finished the interview alone.

Jack listened quietly, "Okay, you get back to the files. I'll go talk with Martin." He said as he pushed his chair back and got up. He followed Danny out to the bullpen. Vivian and Martin where both there still searching the files.

Martin glared at the files frustrated. There was nothing else to go on but the files. Everything pointed to a planned grab. The short span in which she had disappeared - between the lobby and her car - the possibility someone had been watching them..._them_.

A sudden thought occurred to him. He flipped through the files, quickly scanning the names on each case till he found the one he was looking for. He pulled it out and quickly read over the all-too-well remembered details. He was so focussed on the file he did not notice Jack behind him until he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

Martin looked up at Jack blankly. "Let's talk in my office," Jack said simply. Slowly Martin got up and followed Jack back to the office. Danny and Vivian both watched them pass but said nothing. Neither of them needed to, they both knew what had to happen. As it was none of them should even be on the case. However, they were not about to pass it over.

The glass door fell shut behind them and Jack remained standing beside his desk. "Look, Martin, I can't have you working this case. I'm sorry."

"Jack-" Martin started to protest but was cut off.

"I should have sent you home from the start. You can't work this case objectively Martin"

"And you can?" Martin retorted his voice unsteady.

"I didn't toss a suspect around the interview room Martin," Jack sighed. "You know we're all worried about Sam. But I can't let you stay, not now."

Martin ran his hand through his hair. He could not just give up. He needed to help find her. He had to, especially if... He shook his head and walked out of the office without another word.

Danny watched Martin gather his things to leave. He felt for his friend, knowing it was going to kill him to sit at home unable to help. But it was for the best. He could not work this case.


	4. Loose Threads

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, any of the characters, storylines, or actors. However I do own my ideas.

Zai: Well here it is, the next chapter. Thanks for you continued comments. Enjoy!

- - - - - -

_17 hours missing_

Martin stared at the half empty bottle in his hand. A cloud of guilt descending on him, obscuring his logical reasoning that weakly argued; _There was nothing you could have done. No way you could have know. _The alcohol did not help. Martin was not normally much of a drinker, but he had not known what else to do. Jack had sent him home. He had failed to protect her, and now he had failed to find her.

He had not heard from the team since he'd left the office. Not that he should expect them to keep him updated. They would call him when they found her... _if they find her... _Martin washed the dismal thought away with another long drink directly from the bottle. He could not give up on her.

He just had to trust that Jack, Danny and Viv would find her, and get her back safe. The thought frustrated Martin more than it comforted him. He hated leaving Samantha's safety to anyone else. Even his team.

The bottle in his hand attracted his attention again. He stared fixedly at the liquid in the coloured glass container. The day's anger and frustration boiled through him. He was angry at Jack for kicking him off the case. Angry at Danny for pulling him off that guy Richards.

He threw the bottle at the far wall in disgust. Samantha was missing and he was moping half-drunk on his couch. The dark liquor drizzled down his wall pooling on his carpet surrounded by the shattered fragments of glass. He knew his anger at them was irrational. They were his team, and they had done the only thing they could given the situations he had placed them in. He was angry at himself and looking for someone to blame.

Leaning forward Martin let his head fall into his hands. Tears stung at his eyes. He could not fail her. _Not like that other girl... _Martin was unsure were the sudden thought had come from. But he knew that it was a case that would haunt him for a long time.

He had been the first to arrive, it was Sunday and the team had been called in from home. He was the closet. The young woman's fiancé, a young man named Robert Guthrie, had called it in. She had left his apartment late the night before and no one had seen her since.

Three days straight Martin and the rest of the team had worked the case. So little to go on. It had seemed like a random grab. No one had seen anything. The suspect leaving nothing behind to trace.

Three days. Then her beaten body had been found. The coroner had declared her death on the third day. She had been held alive for three days before he finally killed her. During that time she had been beaten multiple times and... Martin shuddered, vividly remembering the sight of her lifeless body. But in his mind's eye it was Samantha's limp body he saw.

After that the case had been transferred to the local NYPD homicide department. He could have let the police talk to the fiancé, but he did not. He had broken the news as gently as he could, but the guy had just snapped. He blamed Martin and the team for her death, and the pain she had endured in the three days leading up to her brutal murder. He had no one else to.

Homicide had no new leads, and as far as Martin knew after all this time they still had nothing. He still remembered the look of pain and anger on the young man's face as he shouted curses and threw a glass vase at Martin's head.

He'd never told the team how about that. He understood the poor man was grieving. He had never once thought that the guy really blamed him. Really believed that he was responsible for the death of his girlfriend. Nor did he believe the man was capable of seeking revenge on him.

But if it was him, why wait so long to take revenge and why on Samantha... unless... the sick bastard. He wanted Martin to feel everything he had. He had taken his revenge now because now Martin had someone who meant more to him then his own life.

Martin felt sick to his stomach. He felt sure he was right, which meant, Samantha was missing because of him... because he had failed to save that poor woman. Without a moment's hesitation he grabbed for his car keys. He had to find that bastard - before it was too late...

- - - - - -

_20 hours missing _

The discouraged team sat around the large conference table in the centre of the bullpen. A few new possibilities had come up, all been checked out, and all had been ruled out. They were back to square one. With nothing to go on.

Jack tossed yet another file into the pile building up beside him. The clock was ticking. They all knew it. "We've got nothing." Jack muttered trying to keep the frustration out of voice. They had gone through file after file, hoping to find a link, a possibility, anything.

"We'll find her." Vivian said sounding more confident than she felt.

Danny nodded sullenly. He tried to be optimistic, but they did not have a clue. It was late, none of them had even mentioned heading home, but Danny became suddenly aware that he hadn't eaten anything in a long time. "Let's take a dinner break. Maybe we'll see something new when we look at it fresh." He suggested.

"No."

"Jack," Vivian reasoned not surprised at Jack blatant rejection, "Danny's right. We're going to miss something working through like this."

Reluctantly Jack conceded, he knew they were right. He closed the file in front of him and rose wearily, "All right. Half hour, dinner break. Then we're back at it."

- - - - - -

Martin sat in his parked car on the side of the road across from Guthrie's apartment building. Impatiently shifting in the driver's seat.

Upon his arrival he had walked over to the building and found a side door to the parkade unlocked. After a survey of the parking lot he had found a red station-wagon that seemed to match Samantha's neighbours description. He had been watching them, for over a week and Martin had not once noticed.

He had found him, the only problem now was Martin was not sure how to proceed. There was no way Guthrie could have gotten Samantha up to his apartment without someone noticing. Even late at night. He had to be holding her somewhere else.

He considered calling in the team, but he had no evidence. No way to bring him in legit. Besides, if he did not talk, they might never find her. No, Martin decided, the only way to handle this was off the books. And he could not bring the team into that.

If Martin was right, Guthrie intended to make him live through everything he had. Which meant he would be holding her somewhere. For three days, torturing her, in the same way his own girlfriend had been. Before beating her to death on the third day.

It was killing Martin to sit there and do nothing while he could only imagine what the bastard had done to Samantha already. However, he knew his best, and only chance of finding her was to follow him there when he went back. As long as he was in his apartment at least Samantha was relatively safe.

He would find her. He had to. If he failed to bring her back safely too, Martin knew there was no way he would be able to live with himself.


	5. Loose Canon

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, any of the characters, storylines, or actors. However I do own my ideas.

Zai: Thanks for the reviews! Well here's the next chapter. Its a little short but I hope you like it.

- - - - -

_26 hours missing_

Danny Taylor sat at his desk staring at the silent phone. The office around him deserted save for his team, every other department had gone home for the night. He supposed he should not really have expected an answer. After all, it was past two am.

He wondered again why he had even bothered trying. It was not like he had anything new to tell Martin. Danny supposed he just wanted to make sure his friend was all right. After all they had seen each other through a lot. Like any partnership they had had their share of rough times. But now Danny considered Martin one of his closest friends. And right now, he was concerned for that friend.

_Where on Earth could he be?_ Danny severely doubted Martin had managed to get to sleep, but it was after two, where was he? He could be just ignoring the phone, but why would he when it could be news about Sam? Danny tried to place himself in Martin's position, he must feel terrible with Sam out there somewhere and not being able to help... _If it were me I'd probably be drunk at some bar._ Martin was not a heavy drinker but a day like this could drive anyone to drinking.

He hoped Martin would not do anything stupid. Martin had always been the more rational one, _but today our roles were a little reversed_, Danny thought anxiously. He could remember several occasions when Martin had dragged him off a suspect, but today was the first time he re-called doing the same for him.

Behind him he heard Jack return to the bullpen with another box of files and a fresh pot of coffee. Working through the night did not seem to be doing them any good, but Danny knew none of them would sleep even if they did head home.

He sighed. He would just have to hope Martin retained at least some of his judgement. Pushing his chair back he let it glide back to the file laden table. He drew his focus back to Sam and finding her. _After all, Martin can take care of himself. _

- - - - - -

_30 hours missing_

The garage gate shifted into motion. Again. Quite a few cars had been out in the last half hour. The work rush was beginning. Martin blinked tiredly. Despite the alcohol he had consumed he had been up all night. And though it seemed like it had been another life-time, the night before last had not offered much sleep either.

He had figured on Guthrie leaving at night. But dawn had come and with it came the beginning of rush hour. Then he noticed the car. The red station-wagon. He watched it turn onto the street and carefully pulled onto the road a safe distance behind. He could not afford to lose him now. But just the same he could not let Guthrie know he was following him.

Due to the traffic on the road Martin had to follow closer then he might have preferred but he doubted that Guthrie would notice him. Besides the bastard was probably confident no one had figured him out yet.

Martin's head ached mildly and he once again regretted the alcohol binge he had allowed himself the previous night. Thankfully the hangover was mild. He would not mess this up.

Ahead Guthrie was turning. Martin pulled into the far lane to follow. The road they turned onto was quieter then the main street that they had been on moments before. But even here there was a steady traffic flow. The road was lined with small commercial buildings. Guthrie made a sharp turn into a small empty parking lot. The building it belonged to seemed to be deserted and it bore a 'for lease' sign hanging crookedly in a window.

Martin parked across the street. He watched Guthrie get out of his car and disappear into the building. The second he was out of sight Martin was out of the car and sprinting across the street. He slowed as he reached the door Guthrie had used. Cautiously Martin pushed the door open. Inside was dark, the only light coming from the natural light that came in the windows.

He had only taken a handful of steps when a man hurdled towards him. The blow knocked him back and off his feet. It took Martin only seconds to react. He struck out at his attacker with his fist catching Guthrie in the face with a unsettling crunching noise.

He gained the upper hand quickly, for he had a decisive size advantage. Not to mention Martin had training in hand to hand combat. However Guthrie did not surrender easily. And it took several moments of exchanging blows before Martin managed to pull away long enough to draw his hand-gun.

Martin pointed the gun directly at Guthrie's chest who immediately stopped moving, opting instead to remain seated on the ground. The man before him looked pitiful, blood soaking into his shirt from his oddly bent nose. Most likely it was broken. As well, his right eye was swelling up at a rapid rate. But Martin barely noticed any of this.

"Where the hell is she?" He demanded, his voice low and surprisingly steady.

"I don't know what your talking about." Came the weak retort.

Martin cocked the gun and asked again, "Tell me where she is. Now."

"You're not going to shoot me."

Martin took a step closer his gun now less them a foot away from Guthrie's chest. "You don't know what I will or won't do." He growled. "Now, tell me where Samantha is."

"I don't know wh-"

Guthrie's denial was cut off by the loud gunshot which echoed through the abandoned building joined with his own screams of pain.

Martin cocked the gun a second time bringing the gun back to face at Guthrie's chest, ignoring the blood gushing out from the man's leg. He forced his hand to remain steady, his mind shutting down in shock at what he had just done.

Gasping in pain Guthrie stared at the blood darkening his pants in shock. Slowly he reached out and clasped his hands over the wound, trying to at least slow the flow of blood. Martin stood rooted to the spot, less then a foot away. For a moment time seemed to stop, before the adrenaline rushing through Martin took over. Slowly he stepped forward again. Now he stopped standing directly over Guthrie. "Where is she?" He asked, the gun mere inches away from the bleeding man.

Neither moved for a long moment then slowly Guthrie said, his voice barely more then a whisper "Go ahead, kill me. My life ended when you failed her." He gasped, gritting his teeth against the pain before he continued, uttering words that made Martin's blood run cold. "Now you'll fail her too."

Martin stood stunned as the meaning of Guthrie's words sank it. But before he had a chance to react the door behind him banged open loudly.

"Police! Freeze!"


	6. Lay it Down

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, any of the characters, storylines, or actors. However I do own my ideas.

Zai: Thanks, all for the reviews. I really appreciate your continued reading of my fic. Hope you like this update.

- - - - - -

Martin's blood ran cold as he heard the all-too-familiar click of a gun cock behind him. Followed by a steady voice. "Place your weapon on the ground."

Slowly Martin complied, holding his arms out to the side he bent down and deposited his gun on the ground. He could not believe he had not noticed the sirens. But he supposed he had been preoccupied.

"Put your hands on your head and slowly back up." The same officer called out. Martin heard a second officer place a request for an ambulance over his radio. When Martin was a safe distance away from his discarded sidearm he lowered himself to his knees, awaiting the inevitable.

While one officer went to Guthrie's side to attempt to steam the flow of blood, his partner approached Martin and roughly snapped the cold metal handcuffs on his wrists. Hauling Martin to his feet he did a quick weapons check before forcibly escorting him toward the exit. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say-"

"I know my rights." Martin muttered. He was thoroughly screwed, and he knew it. He knew what he had done was stupid, but it was worth it. The bastard had Sam, and now the team could find her. "Look, I'm a federal agent," He began, "My ID's in my jacket pocket."

They had stopped in front of the squad car parked in front of the unoccupied building. The cop reached into Martin's pocket and examine his badge and ID skeptically. Martin heard wailing sirens growing louder signaling the ambulance's arrival.

"I need to contact my boss..." Martin tried desperately.

The officer opened the back door of the squad car saying nothing. After helping Martin in he slammed the door and watched the paramedics bring Guthrie out on a stretcher. He approached his partner.

"He's a fed." Sergeant Mathews said showing his partner Martin's badge.

"What?" His partner replied stunned.

"I don't know exactly what is going on, but you should probably go to the hospital with the vic. If this is part of some federal investigation, we had better keep him under watch until the feds take over."

Nodding his partner headed over to the back of the ambulance. Before returning to the car Mathews pulled out his cell and dialed the number for one of the desk officers. "Nolan, hey, I need you to run a check on an FBI agent named Martin Fitzgerald. See if you can get me his boss on the phone."

- - - - - -

"Malone." Jack said tiredly as he answered his phone on the first ring.

"Agent Malone, this is sergeant Mathews, NYPD," An unfamiliar voice came over the line, "I have one of your agents in custody."

"What?" Jack asked confused.

"An agent Fitzgerald." The young officer explained and briefly outlined what he knew of the situation. Which was not much more then Martin had shot a man by the name of Robert Guthrie, who was now on his way to surgery to have a bullet removed from his leg.

Jack listened silently as he paced around the large conference table. _How could Martin be so stupid_? "I'm going to need to talk to him."

"Uh, I'm sorry but he has to be processed first." Stammered Mathews.

"Fine," He muttered figuring he was not going to get anywhere over the phone with some junior cop who only understood procedure. "Damn!" He swore loudly as he slammed the phone down. Danny and Vivian looked up at Jack, surprised by the outburst.

"Danny, find everything you can on a man named Robert Guthrie." Jack said as he ran his fingers through his hair, agitated.

"What's going on Jack?" Vivian asked concerned.

"Martin got arrested. Apparently he shot, and wounded Guthrie. Viv, I need you go to the hospital and be ready to talk to him as soon as he is out of surgery. I'm going to the police station to talk to Martin." Jack explained briefly.

"Shit." Danny muttered. He could not believe his friend had done something like this. _Why didn't he call us if he had a lead? _

- - - - - -

_31 hours missing_

Jack had by-passed the uniformed officers, heading straight to the captain's office. "Your officers arrested an agent of mine." Jack said as he flashed his ID, "I need to talk to him."

The captain seemed to be aware of the situation and accompanied Jack to an interrogation room. "He'll be up shortly." He said as he turned to leave the room then gesturing at the mirror. "My officers will be observing, take as much time as you need."

After only a short moment the door opened again as Martin arrived accompanied by an officer. Once inside the room the officer undid Martin's cuffs before leaving.

The door had barely shut before Jack exploded. "What the hell were you thinking?" He demanded. "You shot a man. You want to know why I took you off the case? This is why. But even I didn't think you'd do something this stupid!"

"Jack-" Martin cut in meekly.

Jack took a deep breath, in a desperate attempt to regain some control. "Look Martin, I know how hard this is on you. But if you had anything you should have told us. Not gone off by yourself..."

"You can't understand how this is for me!" Martin shouted back.

"Don't you dare think you're the only one who cares for her. We're trying our best Martin." Jack replied coldly.

"I love her, Jack..." Martin murmured trailing off. "And it's because of me she's missing... He took her because of me."

"He took her? Guthrie? Are you sure Martin?"

Martin only nodded. "He has her Jack... I don't know where, but he has her. He told me... he told me I'd fail her too."

- - - - -

Danny arrived at the deserted building to find Jack and a handful of police officers already there. He parked his car on the street and noticed Martin's car across the road. "Any thing?" He called out as he caught sight of Jack coming out of the building.

Jack shook his head. "We've checked the building. She's not here." He replied making his way to Danny. "Viv's at the hospital, he's still in surgery, but even when he comes out I doubt he'll give us anything. Martin shot him and still didn't get a location. We're on our own."

"How bout his car?" Danny asked gesturing to the station wagon in the building's parking lot. Only a short distance away from the two police cruisers.

"Let's take a look." Jack said checking the door. "Locked."

Within a few seconds Danny had the door opened. He had some of those questionable skills that one acquired in youth that often proved useful.

Danny took the front of the car, leaving Jack with the back. The car was empty, devoid even of trash. Something pale against the car's grey interior caught Jack's attention. He picked up the long blonde strand of hair. Grimly he held it up and showed it to Danny.

The hair did not prove anything unless they did a DNA test on it. Which they did not have time for, but it was enough for Jack. He just hoped Sam was all right.

"Hey Jack." Danny called from the passenger seat. "Take a look at this." He said pulling a keycard out from the glove compartment and handed it to Jack.

Jack examined the card. "It's to a storage unit..."


	7. Rescue

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, any of the characters, storylines, or actors. However I do own my ideas.

Zai: Ah, hectic week. But here it is - chapter 7. Enjoy!

- - - - - -

In one corner of the small cell, Martin sat with his back against the cold cement wall and stared blankly into the small hall beyond the grimy bars. He glanced at his watch, an noted exactly 43 seconds had passed since his last look.

Ever since he had arrived at the police station Martin's stomach had been churning, nauseously. _The bastard deserved worse. _Martin told himself. However, this brought little comfort. He had always fought against those who would hurt an unarmed person. Now he was no better than they were. It was no wonder Samantha had been keeping him at a distance. Not physically, but there definitely was an emotion chasm between them.

Frustrated Martin pounded his fist into the solid wall behind him. Samantha was out there somewhere, and here he was locked in a cell drowning himself in self-pity. He glanced at his watch again. Before he had blurted it out to Jack, Martin was not even sure if he had realized how he felt. He loved her, _and she's out there hurt... or worse... because of you. Because you failed them. _

Heat trickled slowly down his cheek but Martin did not even bother to wipe away the tears. He dropped his head down to rest it upon his bent knee. The tears in a steady flow and he could feel them soak into his jeans.

- - - - - -

"Don't you need a warrant to be in there?" One of the officers called across to the two FBI agents in the red-station wagon.

"Probable cause," Jack muttered without looking up. He took the card that Danny held out to him crawled out of the car. He turned the keycard over in his hand. "Do you know where this is?" He asked indicating the storage companies name on the back of the card.

"Sure, it's not too far from here." The officers said gesturing down the street, "less than fifteen minutes by car."

Jack was already heading towards his car and called over his shoulder, "Lead on."

"Wait!" The officer called back, and as Jack stopped and turned to face him he continued, "You'll definitely need a warrant to search that."

"We don't have time for a damn warrant. One of my agents is missing and we need to find her. Now." Jack snapped back, "You going to show us the way or to me and Taylor have to find it on our own?"

The cop said nothing for a moment before calling to his partner and heading over to his squad car. "Follow us."

Shortly they pulled to a stop in front of a gated property. The large metal fence encircled three large storage buildings the housed hundreds of various sized rental units. Built outside the fence close to the entrance gate was a small building that Jack took to be an office.

The office was small and a middle-aged man sat behind the lone desk. Jack approached the startled man and flashed his ID.

"I need to know which unit this keycard belongs to." Jack said laying the card on the desk.

"I'm sorry, but the keycards only open the front gate." The balding man stammered, gesturing to the large black fence. "And all the cards are the same. Each owner has to get his own unit's lock."

"Okay. Do you have access to the rental files?" Jack asked, when the man nodded he continued, "good, then find out which unit is rented to a man named Robert Guthrie."

The man turned to look at the monitor on his desk. "I don't think I can tell you unless you have a warrant..." He muttered.

"One's on the way." The young cop who had showed Jack and Danny the way assured him, then addressing Jack he said, "I call into the station on he way over."

Jack nodded approvingly then turned back to the man at the desk. "It'll be here soon. In the mean time, unit number please."

The man hesitated a moment before typing a few things into his keyboard. Looking up again he said, "He rents unit 412, in building B."

"We're going to need to get in there." Danny said from where he had stopped just inside the doorway.

"Well, I don't have a key..." He admitted, "Owners keep their own keys. But, uh I can show you were it is, I suppose."

Jack gestured for him to lead the way and he, Danny and the two police officers followed the man out of the office and through a small gate. Once inside the perimeter fence the man lead them down a small road to the second building. "It's a smaller unit, on the top floor." He explained as he opened a door that lead into a landing that had a staircase and a freight elevator.

The staircase was rather short, the elevator installed for the purpose of moving larger objects into storage, not to bypass climbing long stairs. The group headed up to the second flight. The hall upstairs was narrow and lead off in two directions. Each wall was lined with garage-style doors, accompanied by metal plates bearing unit numbers.

The office man lead them to the right down near the end of the hall. Stopping in front of one door he gestured to the number-plate. "412, there you are."

"Thank you," Danny said , stepping forward to examine the padlock. "Could I borrow your baton?" he asked turning to one of the officers.

The cop nodded silently handing the weapon over to Danny. It took several well-placed forceful blows before the lock gave way. Pulling the broken lock from the clasp he stood so he could pull the door up and open.

Behind him Jack shone a flashlight beam into the dim interior of the unit. The limp form laying against the far wall caused the office employee to release a sharp gasp. Jack was at her side instantly. Danny found the light, and turning it on, he took in the scene.

The second Jack kneeled down beside his colleague he realized she was conscious. She blinked up at him dazed. Her arms were firmly tied behind her back and her legs were tied with similar rope. Jack gently removed the gag from her mouth and noticed the fresh bruises covering her face and arms, and probably most of her body.

"Get an ambulance here now." He called without taking his eyes of Sam. Using a pocket knife he gently cut through her bonds. "It's going to be okay Sam," Jack said soothingly.

Emotions flooded through Samantha as Jack slowly helped her to her feet. After everything that had happen in the past two days, Sam did not know how to feel. Jack was helping her into the hall past the two cops and Danny.

"Jack," Danny called as the two were about to make their way down the hall. Jack turned back to look at Danny. He eyes sliding past Danny's grim face to the plastic wrapper he held in his hand. The plastic wrapper that clearly belonged to a condom.

Jack said nothing in reply. He simply turned and returned to helping Sam toward the elevator. They reached the entrance door and Sam sank down to the curbside. Jack knelt in front of her.

It was over now. Mixed emotions flooded through Sam - anger, relief, disgust, fear and mostly weakness. She hated feeling weak. Samantha had spent her entire life building barriers around herself, knowing that she could rely only on her self.

But now, now it seemed irrelevant. If she really needed no one why was leaning into Martin's strong, protective arms the only thing she could think of. Needing others did not make her weak, and now she realized how she must have hurt Martin by pushing him away.

With her knees hugged close to her chest Sam looked so hurt and vulnerable. Jack longed to take her into her into his arms and hold her, comfort her, protect her.

Sam's small voice interrupted Jack's thoughts, "Where- Where's Martin?" Her voice sounded desperate.

Jack looked away, hoping Sam would not have seen the longing in his eyes. He could not believe how strong he still felt for her. He pushed the thought away, knowing he had only caused Sam pain with their relationship.

Wailing sirens indicated the arrival of the ambulance and saved Jack from finding and explanation for Martin's whereabouts. "The ambulance is here Sam. Danny will ride with you to the hospital okay?" When Sam only nodded Jack started to rise but stopped. "Sam, I need you to tell me something okay? I need to know, did he... did he rape you Sam?" Jack forced the question out.

Sam stared down at her feet for a long moment before she looked up at Jack through bleary eyes. She tried to voice an answer but her throat suddenly felt tight. Instead she gave a hesitant nod.

The paramedics had approached and one of them helped Sam to the back of the ambulance. Jack quickly gave the other a run down of Samantha's condition before he headed over to where Danny leaned against the building's outer wall.

"I think you should ride with her to the hospital." Jack said knowing he could not be alone with Sam right now.

"Okay," Danny agreed, "You going to get word to Martin?"

"Yeah, I'll make sure he knows and then meet you and Viv at the hospital."

Danny started towards the idlling ambulance but stopped and turned back to face Jack, "She doesn't know does she?" He asked, and even without the direct reference they both knew he was referring to Martin's arrest.

Jack shook his head. "I didn't know how to tell her, after all she's been through."

Nodding Danny turned and sprinted across to the waiting ambulance. Jack watched silently as the doors slammed shut and the ambulance pulled away and headed out the opened gate onto the street. As it disappeared around a corner he slowly walked back to his car.

Sitting in the driver's seat he did not start the engine right away, instead he pulled his cell from his pocket. He had two calls to make. One which he was definitely not looking forward to.


	8. Fall to Pieces

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, any of the characters, storylines, or actors. However I do own my ideas.

Zai: As always I'd like to thank you all for the continued feedback, it is greatly appreciated. And sorry bout the bit of a delay, I've been busy what with the holidays and all. But here it is, chapter 8. Hope you enjoy it, and I wish you all a pleasant holiday season.

- - - - - - -

An intercom sitting in one corner of the desk crackled to life, "Sir, there is an agent Malone on line for you." the young female voice announced.

"Thank-you Jane, I'll get it." Deputy director Victor Fitzgerald replied as he leaned back in his large office chair. _What the hell could Jack Malone want,_ he wondered before reaching for the slim black phone.

The line clicked as the hold was removed and Jack heard Victor Fitzgerald's commanding voice on the far end of the line, "Hello, Jack."

Jack politely returned the greeting. As it was, he and deputy director Fitzgerald were not on the greatest of terms and Jack was pretty sure the purpose behind this call was not going to reconcile anything between them.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" Victor queried skipping to the point, "I had not heard of anything unusual going on in your department."

"It's not exactly about work." Jack stammered delay the inevitable for as long as he could.

"Then why exactly are you calling?"

"It's about Martin..." Jack trailed off as Victor Fitzgerald interrupted him.

"Is he all right? What's happened?" The questions were fired in rapid succession and it was a moment before Jack was able to speak at all.

"Martin's fine." Jack assured him, although he would not exactly call in jail 'fine' Martin was at least physically unhurt. "There was a incident earlier today and Martin's, er, well he's been arrested." Jack finally blurted out. The opposite end of the line fell silent for a long moment and Jack began to wonder if Victor Fitzgerald had hung up.

"Arrested? For what, what are the charges?" Victor demanded when he managed to find his voice.

"I'm not sure..." Jack muttered, "Probably assault with a deadly weapon." He added quietly.

"What? How the Hell did that happen? Assault! With a deadly weapon?"

Jack cringed. He would hate to be in Martin's place right now, as it was he was not thrilled to be on the other end of the phone. The deputy director sounded rather upset, to put it lightly. Luckily for Martin he was in Washington - at least for now.

Jack waited patiently while Victor ranted for several minutes. When the man had finally settled down Jack filled him in on the basic details. He was reluctant to reveal anything he did not have to about Martin and Sam's relationship. Martin had enough to 'discuss' with his father as it was.

When Jack was through with his explanation, Victor sighed. How on earth did his son manage to wind up in these situations? Hadn't he taught the boy anything? He slammed the receiver down hard on it's cradle and took a few moments to collect his temper.

"Jane?" He asked over the intercom. "I'm going to need a flight to New York. Next one that you can get me on."

"Yes sir." Came the instant reply.

"Oh, and Jane, get me a defence attorney on the phone." Victor vividly remembered the conversation he had with Martin about staying out of his son's life. In fact it had been one of the only conversations he'd had with his son recently. As they were not on the best of terms. But Victor Fitzgerald did not care what Martin wanted at the moment. He was not going to sit idly and let his son go to prison.

- - - - - -

Arlene, the young red-haired nurse, looked sympathetically back at the poor blonde patient sitting on the edge of the bed. The doctor had already been in to see her and had cleaned and dressed her cuts. Other then a fractured wrist, Sam's injuries were not major. Arlene knew she would recover from his physical wounds easily enough.

However, Arlene also knew the poor woman had emotional scars that would heal much less easily. Reluctantly she headed out into the hall, she had other patients to see. On her way out she noted the couple across the hall had been hover around Sam's room since she had come in.

"You can go and see her," She said quietly before heading across to the next room.

Danny and Vivian exchanged a look. Both had wanted to go in and see Sam, and yet, at the same time they had held back. Finally Danny spoke, "Maybe it would be best if you went in, I'll just go check on the cops downstairs, make sure they have Guthrie's arrest taken care off."

Vivian paused for a moment before agreeing. She did not want to overwhelm Sam after everything she had been through. Danny was probably right. "All right."

Sam did not look up as Vivian entered. Hesitantly Vivian sat next to her younger colleague on the edge of the overly sterile hospital bed. "How are you holding up?" Viv asked feeling stupid at asking such a pointless question.

"All right," Sam muttered trying to keep her high running emotions in check.

Seeing how fragile her friend was, Vivian slipped her arm around Sam's shoulder in a motherly gesture. For awhile both were silent. Vivian's presence offering more comfort then her words could at present.

Silently tears welled in Samantha's eyes. Still she tried to hold them back. She was so tired. So tired of pretending to be strong, when she was so weak. She just wished she could go home and crawl under the covers, with Martin's powerful arm holding her close.

The doctor had insisted she spend the night here at the hospital. This was the last place on earth Sam wanted to be. She just wanted to go home and get past this. Get on with her life, _a life with Martin.  
_  
Vivian was saying something now, and Sam tried to listen but the words seemed like a foreign tongue. Quickly Sam brushed the droplets from her eyes.

"Just remember Sam, we're here for you." Vivian was saying, unsure if Sam was even listening.

"Vivian?" Sam asked questioningly.

"Yes, what is it?" Vivian prompted gently.

"Why... where's Martin?" Sam asked quietly, she had expected him to be at the hospital. _Hadn't he wanted to see her? _

Sighing Vivian tried to find the words to explain the situation to Sam. In the hall Danny had informed her that Sam had yet to find out about Martin's arrest. She had understood why the guys had been reluctant to tell her, after all she had been through she had to find out her boyfriend was in jail too.

However, she also knew one of them would have to tell her eventually. "Sam, I'm sorry, Martin's at the police station. He wants to be here for you, only, he can't. He's in custody." Vivian explained bluntly, knowing it was the only way to tell her.

It took a moment for the new information to sink in for Sam. "What?" she gasped. "What for?"

"He... he attacked Guthrie after Jack had to throw him off the case."

"He's in jail because of me" Sam whispered into her lap, her voice barely audible.

"No. Sam its not your fault." Vivian reassured Sam as she gently squeezed her friend's shoulder. "Martin made his own choice. And even if he didn't make the best decision, it was because of him we found you."

Sam was quiet for a long moment before slowly turning to look up at Vivian. "What's going to happen to him now?"

"I don't know Sam, I just don't know."


	9. Holding On

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, any of the characters, storylines, or actors. However I do own my ideas.

Zai: Thanks for the reviews everyone. I'm glad you'r all enjoying my story. Sorry for the longer wait, hope it will be worth it though. Enjoy.

- - - - - -

Martin had been indescribably relieved when the desk sergeant had come and given him the news. Sam had been found, and she was going to be fine. Now sitting in the corner of the small cell he wished he could be there for her.

The guard on duty stopped in front of the bars. "Your boss is back." He said pulling out the keys to unlock the cell door.

The cop reached for his belt and removed his cuffs, but Martin was too far beyond caring to protest. The officer led Martin upstairs and into the interview room where Jack was waiting. Once inside the guard removed the handcuffs from around Martin's wrists and left the two FBI agents alone.

"Martin." Jack greeted him curtly. "Take a seat."

"How's Sam? Is she holding up all right? Would I be able to see her?"

"Sit." Jack repeated and waited while Martin dropped wearily into the chair across from him. "Sam is here, I managed to have the captain and her doctor agree to a short visit. But before she comes in, I need you to listen to me, okay Martin?" He said as gently as he could manage.

Martin nodded slowly unsure what Jack was getting at. He was just glad that Sam was here, and he could see her.

"There is no easy way to say this Martin," Jack said and paused reluctant to deliver the news, "He raped her."

Martin paled rapidly as Jacks words sank in. The nausea he felt earlier returned swiftly accompanied by the strong urge to kill that bastard with his bare hands. Martin was on his feet now, although he did not remember standing. "I should have killed that fucking bastard." He yelled.

Jack knew he should have expected an outburst. But he knew he had to tell Martin. He had to try to understand what Sam was going through or he would just make it worse. "I'm sorry Martin."

Lashing out with his foot Martin sent his chair flying towards the far wall. "How could anyone do that to her." He asked quieter, unshed tears making his eyes glisten.

Jack shook his head, as he came around the table to Martin's side, knowing there was no answer that question. Firmly he placed a hand on Martin's shoulder and gave his younger colleague a sympathetic look. "You take a few minuets to calm down. Sam needs your support right now. Don't let her down."

Jack released his grip on Martin's shoulder and banged on the door. As the guard let him out, he remembered he had meant to tell Martin about the call to Victor Fitzgerald, but Jack supposed that could wait.

Looking up from the waiting area chairs Sam saw Jack coming out of the room. "Can I see him now?" She asked as he came over.

"Just give him a minute." Jack replied slowly before adding, "You promise you'll let me take you back to the hospital after?"

Sam nodded. She had planned to insist on being discharged, and not stay the night, but Jack had only agreed to bring her to see Martin if she'd stay.

After a moment Jack told her to go on and Sam headed over to the door where an officer was waiting to let her in. She stepped slowly into the room.

Martin watched her come in from where he was standing against the far wall. She looked so tired, and vulnerable. He wanted to pull her into his arms and just hold her. He walked towards her. But then hesitated. He did not know how she was feeling, he could not understand what it had been like for her. She might not want to be touched. Martin felt so useless, knowing that Samantha was hurting but unsure of what to do. Not wanting to hurt her more.

The days worth of tears Sam had held back finally burst forth. Martin quickly cover the shortened distance and pulled Samantha into a gentle embrace. She buried her face into his chest and he felt the hot tears soaking into his shirt.

They stood like that for a long time. Sam shaking as the sobs choked through her and Martin comfortingly stroking her long blonde hair. After the worst of the tears subsided Martin was the first to speak. "It will be okay. I'll be here for you." He murmured reassuringly before realizing that he could not very well promise anything right now. So far as he could tell he was going to jail.

Samantha did not seem to care if the promise seemed illogical. She just felt like she had finally found where she belong, nestled safely in Martin's embrace. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for, it's not your fault Sam." Martin countered instantly knowing many victims felt responsible when really there had been nothing they could have done. "It's all over now, It's all over."

By the time the door opened the flow of tears had dwindled to a stop and Sam wiped at her blood-shoot eyes. Jack stood waiting in the door-way. He had not wanted to interrupt but he needed to get Samantha back to the hospital.

"It's time to go." Jack said to Sam before addressing Martin. "We'll be at the arraignment."

Sam nodded as she pulled back from Martin. Before he completely let his arms fall from around her he gazed down into her tear-streaked face. "I love you Samantha." He said quietly.

It was the first time he had said those words to her. She looked back at him and saw only honesty in his deep blue eyes. "I love you too." She said simply before turning and following Jack out of the room. She tried not to notice the guard removing the handcuffs from his belt to escort Martin back to the holding cell.

- - - - - -

The hall lights dimmed down as the night shift took over. The visitors had left for the day and a quiet settled over the hospital ward. Only the regular clack of the nurses footsteps making their rounds and the steady noises of the hospital machines made any noise.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in the stiffly blanketed bed. She let her eyes close tiredly again. Only for a moment, until the images her mind conjured returned warding off sleep once again.

Giving up on sleep she turned on the lamp at her bedside and shifted into a half sitting position. She could not even close her eyes without reliving the past few days. She refused to think of what she would dream of if she ever managed to make it to sleep.

The nurse looked in on her again and noticed the light on. "Are you all right?" She asked gently.

Sam nodded tiredly. "I'll be fine, thank you."

The nurse nodded and returned to her rounds leaving Sam once again alone. She stared blankly at the far wall trying to ponder the future and forget the past. _At least the past few days_. She found her mind wandering back to the words Martin had ended their conversation with. She tried not to think of how she would have reacted a week ago to that statement.

Samantha knew she had been making excuses in their relationship. She would not even tell anyone at the office about it. Martin must have realized it was not all because of her affair with Jack. Sighing Sam rolled onto her side. She must have hurt him so badly, and yet he was ready to stand by her through this.

- - - - - -

Martin knew he should sleep but his mind could not settle. Thoughts flew threw at a rapid rate. The realization that he and Sam had taken a new turn in their relationship dawned on him. However the joy was short lived as he knew he would not likely be able to make bail.

Even if he could, that would not solve the greater problem that he was headed to jail. However he knew if he could live that moment over, knowing what he knew now, he would have killed the sick son-of-a-bitch without hesitation.

Not exactly the best way to convince a jury he was sorry. Although he was. He felt sick at the thought and yet knew at the same time knew he would do it.

Martin shifted on the small cot. He vaguely wondered if he could afford any sort of lawyer. But then what did it really matter, since he knew he had shot the guy. He could not really dispute that detail.

Trying to ignore the worst case scenarios he seemed to be excellent at conjuring, Martin's thoughts went back to Samantha. He knew she was back at the hospital for the night. He hoped she was sleeping better then he was. Hoped she would come out of all this all right. _All right without me. _


	10. By my Side

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, any of the characters, storylines, or actors. However, I do own my ideas

Zai: Shorter update. Hope you enjoy, and review.

- - - - - -

The courthouse was busy, and the people passing by on either side did not noticed the confused look on Martin's face as he was met outside the courtroom by his lawyer, mainly because he had not called one and from the man's suit he could tell this guy was not a court-appointed advocate.

"I apologize for not being able to meet with you before-hand, but we can discuss the details of the incident after the arraignment." The lawyer stated simply as he held the door open for his bewildered client.

The officers that had accompanied Martin from the station followed them in, waiting to return Martin to confines of a cell when he failed to meet bail. The charge was read out as Martin and the unexplained lawyer took their place at the defence table.

The entire process took only a few moments, but Martin's mind wandered. He knew Sam and Jack where there, he had noticed them on the way in. Vaguely he wondered if this weird nauseous feeling would be present during the entire trial process. _Not that there will be much of a trial_. It was as clear to Martin as anyone else, there was little grounds for a non-guilty verdict as he had obviously shot the bastard.

Martin managed to focus on the judge long enough the hear him announce that bail was set at an amount, that as Martin had expected, was beyond his funds. He sighed quietly and then felt a hand grip him gently on the shoulder. He turned, expected it to be Jack, but instead found himself directly in front of the Deputy Director of the FBI - His father.

It then occurred to Martin that he should have suspected his father's involvement when the mysterious lawyer had shown up. He was still unsure of how he felt about his father's newest interference into his life, when his father started to talk.

"Well it was a little more then I expected, but I'm handling the bail." He spoke in his standard "I'm in control of everything" voice.

Martin started to protest. It was not that he exactly wanted to be stuck in prison any longer then he had to, it was more, that he did not want his father taking over the situation. Especially since he'd had some amount of time in the previous day, to come to terms with the fact that he had brutally shot an unarmed man. _Even if he was a sick and twisted bastard_. And was starting to feel rather like he deserved to be in jail. _Even though it meant being away from Samantha. _

However, what Martin felt about the intrusion seemed of little consequence to Victor Fitzgerald, who, after exchanging a few words with the lawyer, headed off to post the required bail.

- - - - - -

Fed up with the two older men ignoring him, Martin stormed out of the nondescript office building. His father and his hired lawyer had spent the better part of the last hour deciding his future and Martin had come to the conclusion he wanted nothing to do with it.

His father was all too ready to call in as many favours as he could to get the charges dropped. It was just like the last time, his father using his influence to make Martin's mistakes disappear.

Annoyed Martin wondered why he was so against it. He could get a free pass at this and yet he could not stand it. It probably had more to do with the way his father always forced his solutions on Martin without ever listening to his son's view, than the actual help being offered.

However, he supposed it might also have something to do with how he spent his life working for the justice system and now his father was trying to manipulate it to get him off. Frustrated Martin ran his fingers through his unbrushed hair.

For a time Martin wandered around trying to sort out the muddle of thoughts that had accumulated over the emotionally trying past few days. He barely knew where to begin. This entire situation was just wrong.

A small rumbling from his stomach forced Martin to try and remember when he had last eaten. Not recalling anything since breakfast he flagged down a taxi.

- - - - - -

A hesitant knock from her front door drew Sam back to the present world. Slowly she got up and unbolted the door, aimlessly wondering how long she had been seated blankly in front of the tv.

Martin flashed Samantha a sad smile as she opened the door. In his hand he held a bag of take-out Chinese food, "You hungry?" he asked indicating the bag, still unsure if he should even be there. He hoped he was not making things worse for her, _she might need her space._

"Yeah, come on in." Sam said steeping back from the doorway glad Martin was there. Martin followed her in and shut the door behind him.

Sam headed into the kitchen and pulled a couple plates out of the cabinet. Martin set the food out on the table. They had gotten Chinese a few times before and Sam noticed he had brought all her favourites and none of his.

They ate in silence for sometime. The events of the past days on both their minds, and neither of them wanting to bring them up. "Jack forced me on leave for a while." Sam finally said quietly.

Marin nodded, "I expected he would, are you going to be okay with that?" He suspected Samantha would prefer to have something to keep her busy.

Sam shrugged. "I'm not really enthused about spending too long sitting around here on my ass. But I'll be fine."

When the remains of their dinner was cleared away, Martin suggested they try and find a movie on tv. Sam agreed wanting something to take her mind of the thoughts that continued to fly through her mind, _what if Martin goes to jail?_ Sitting next to each other on the living-room couch Martin flipped through a few channels before resting on some light-hearted comedy movie.

Samantha curled up close beside Martin gently resting her head against him. He smiled down at her and curled his arm around her shoulders comfortably.

Martin's steady breathing made Sam sleepy and she dozed off during the movie. It was the first time since the rape that she had really managed to sleep without the nightmares that jolted her back to wakefulness.

Gently stroking her long blonde hair with his free hand, Martin watched Samantha sleep, the forgotten movie still playing in the background. Carefully he shifted under her, trying to keep the circulation running through his one arm without waking her.

However, the movement stirred her awake. She starred up at Martin with her beautiful brown eyes. "Martin?" She murmured sleepily.

"I'm here."

"Will you stay here tonight?" She said her voice trembling slightly, "I don't want to be alone."

"Don't worry Samantha I won't leave you." He said soothingly while he gently traced his finger down her delicate jaw-line.

She nodded and smiled sweetly before drifting off again.


	11. Against the Odds

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, any of the characters, storylines, or actors. However I do own my ideas.

Zai: And the final update!! Hope you enjoyed my story, and like the ending.

- - - - - -

A loud ringing woke Martin with a start. He reached out to turn off the alarm on his side table, only to find no alarm, and no side table. Reluctantly he opened his sleep blurred eyes and realized that not only was he not in his room, he was not in his house.

It took him several moments before he remembered he was on Samantha's couch. A second shrill ring caused him to search, once again, for it's source. His cell phone. "Hello?" He mumbled as he flipped the cell open.

"Martin. Where the hell have you been?" His father's overbearing voice demanded through the phone. "I've been calling your house and your cell all morning."

Glancing at his watch Martin realized it was nearly noon. He was surprised he had managed to sleep that long, especially if, as his father said, his cell had been going off all morning.

"I even stopped by your apartment." Victor informed him dryly.

"I'm not at home." Martin admitted sheepishly.

"I noticed."

Sam appeared in the doorway dressed in jeans and a tank-top, her damp hair on her shoulders indicating she had just come from the shower. She flashed Martin one of her beautiful smiles and held up two boxes of cereals questioningly. Martin gestured at one and she disappeared back into the kitchen leaving him to complete his call. Martin tried to focus on his phone conversation but other thoughts were implanting themselves in his mind.

"We've come up with a possibility, I'm trying to get the charges dropped, well transferred really." His father was saying now, "You're an FBI agent, he was a suspect, and there is no reason why this shouldn't be handled inside the bureau."

"No, no reason at all. Other then the fact we had no valid evidence at the time pointing to Guthrie and the slight detail that I was kicked off the case." Martin retorted before slamming the phone shut before his father could argue back.

Disgusted Martin turned his phone off before heading into the kitchen. Sam was sitting at the table, a bowl of his chosen cereal was waiting for him. Judging by the exasperated expression on his face Sam took a guess at the caller, "Your father?"

With a nod Martin ran his fingers through his tousled hair. "No matter how he puts his 'solutions' it just seems so wrong. He's abusing the system for my sake."

Samantha gave him a sympathetic smile. "I know, but you don't deserve to go to jail. Marty you're a good person, just remember that. That's the difference between you and them, you hate to see the system beat even for your sake, they would pay their way out of prison without giving it a second thought."

She was right, Martin told himself. The reason he felt he belonged in jail, was because he felt he had become the same as those he had worked so hard to put behind bars. But he was not like them...

- - - - - -

Victor had pulled in several favours, but he had managed to get all involved to agree to have the entire issue handled inside the bureau. He knew Martin did not approve of his involvement, but frankly he would rather beg his son's forgiveness then never be able to live with himself for standing by while his son went to prison.

He knew he would have to let internal affairs launch a somewhat standard inquiry. However, he was fairly confident he could keep Martin's job safe, the boy's record would have to reflect the incident and it was likely Martin would be under much closer inspection from now on. He supposed if there was ever another shoot deemed 'questionable' on his son's record he would have a hard time convincing them to let it go again.

But for now Victor was quite confident Martin's position was secure. _Hopefully further situations just won't arise_. He mused as he prepared to return to Washington to deliver the good news to his wife.

- - - - - - -

Samantha had gone back to work about a week ago now. At Martin and Jack's insistence she had made several visits to the psychiatrist. She had been reluctant at first, but the visits seemed to be helping. She had sleeping better, Martin noted, and the nightmares that had been occurring nearly ever night had dwindled in frequency and intensity.

Until today Martin's return had been pending. The agents from internal had given Jack their final decision earlier. And now Martin stood waiting for Jack to relay their conclusion.

"You're on modified assignment for a while," Jack said, "However, we'll get you back in the field soon enough. But they said one more incident and your done."

Martin let out the breath he had not even realized he had been holding in and nodded appreciatively. "Thanks," he said, relieved.

Jack just nodded and returned to the stack of work on his desk ending the conversation. Martin walked out of Jack's office and stopped in the hallway. It was over, all the uncertainty that had been hanging around like a storm cloud dispersed.

A solid hand whacked him playfully on the back and he turned to find Danny standing beside him grinning. "Welcome back, Martin," Danny said cheerfully, "I've got to admit I missed having you around."

"Really? I think you've just forgot how much of a pain I am while I was gone." Martin joked. He was glad he would be coming back. This team meant everything to him. _Especially Samantha_.

- - - - - -

The dim light that flowed in from the darkened street was the only light in Sam's bedroom. The sheets laid tousled around the two figures occupying the queen bed.

Martin rolled over onto his side and watched Samantha's chest move with her light breaths. He had hardly been back to his own house since that night Sam had asked him to stay with her. But tonight was the first night they had been intimate since before Sam's disappearance. Martin had not wanted to force her into things and had waited until Samantha made the first move.

Pulling the covers over Samantha's sleeping form, Martin felt an overwhelming joy at having this second chance to make their relationship work. Together they would work through all the challenges. Being here, holding her in his arms, all of it was worth whatever he had to give up to make them work.


End file.
